


Days in the Forest

by SapphyreLily



Series: Sunlight Through A Glass Window [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Animal AU, Fluff, Gen, different species so happy guessing ahaha, everyone is an animal in this au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7506565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Week Day 4 - Animals/Blue (Trust/Loyalty)</p>
<p>Who said you can't be friends with your enemy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days in the Forest

**Author's Note:**

> Literal animal AU guys. I'm not kidding. The Seijou 4 are different animals in this, so guess who is who!

Blue is the colour you don’t see for the longest time, the brightness of the summer sky and the waters of the creek. It is the colour you have not seen before, because you were born in winter, a small kit that was the weakest of the litter.

Blue is the colour that your mother tells you your skin turned, because your siblings had pushed you into a corner of the den that was cold and hard and had wind whistling in through the soil. It is the colour that receded after you dared to drag your frozen body back into the nest of piled fur, wiggling into the middle where it was warmest.

Blue is the colour of your eyes when they first opened, the tint of a kit not yet old enough to explore the world. It is the colour that stares back at you as your siblings push you backwards out of the den, their yaps playful yet menacing.

Blue is not what you see outside the den. It is white; cold, fluffy, wet white that floats from the sky and lands in your fur, and you dance out, further, further from the safety and warmth of the only home you’ve ever known.

You chase the falling white until it seems like darkness has come, and then you turn round in circles, crying your terror because _you are so far from home_.

Fright is all you feel when you hear scuffling sounds in the darkness, as you press yourself up against a tree root. But it is shock you feel when your hind paws scrabble and fall, when you tip backwards into a cavity.

Curiosity hits you when your panic has subsided, when you realise that the hole is still shallow enough for you to get out of. The scary sounds are still out there, so you decide not to leave, turning your nose instead to the peculiar scent of another animal in the depths of the lair.

You stick your nose to the ground, following the musk of a small animal, and the sweetness of milk. You have not fed since your mother left that morning, and your stomach aches with emptiness.

A sharp squeal stops you in your tracks, a small face and spines following right after. You scrabble backwards, falling ungainly on your rump and whimper. Whatever _is_ this animal?

Your eyes make out the barest shape and size of it, because you are young and immature and know very little of anything. The squeal comes again, this time uncertain, and there are snuffling sounds as it shuffles closer to you, prodding you with its small nose.

You flinch at the touch, crying out in fear. You wish your mother would come. You wish you had not ventured so far from the den. You wish that you had been braver to hide instead of letting your siblings push you around, because now you were facing down an animal your size with spikes sticking out of it and _it looks like it could eat you_.

But then, the animal prods your face with its little nose and licks at your whiskers, snuffling a question. You peep an answer back, struggling not to roll into a ball and hide your nose beneath your paws.

It snorts at you then, seemingly amused, and no longer angry at you for crashing into its den. It turns around and you catch the smell of milk again, belated realising that this animal is _female_. She bids you to follow her, her round behind swaying as she waddles off without you.

You scrabble at the dirt as you try to keep up, bumping your nose on her spines by accident and pricking your nose. She ignores your yelp of pain, scuttling deeper into the earth where her den lies.

When you finally reach her den, you scent the richness of spilled milk, along with the freshness of her young, their musk not as potent as hers. She introduces you to her babies, with a warning not to trample or eat them. You promise you wouldn’t, and she rolls belly up, offering you her milk.

You grab a small pink teat, suckling hungrily. You are not even close to full when she swats you away; her babies need the milk too.

She wakes them and feeds them, and all of the little bundles sniff you warily, their instincts screaming at them to stay back. But one little ball of spikes barrels into you, pouncing on your feet and gnawing on your toes. It isn’t painful, but you yelp anyway, surprised by the attack.

The mother squeaks angrily at it and it slouches away, but not before it pulls on one of your whiskers. You bat at its behind, only to yelp at the pain of the spikes. The mother snorts at the two of you, and resumes feeding the others.

You stay the night, your furry body wrapping around the little hoglets (their mother is called a hedgehog, or that’s what she said, anyway). It’s not as warm as your own den, but the scent of friendly animals is enough to lull you into sleep.

x.x.x.x.x

You meet the hedgehogs again in spring, when you are learning to hunt and they are foraging for food. The angry one that fought you that time chases you, and you scamper off in mock-fright.

You end up becoming friends with the little hedgehog, whose offered caterpillars and worms never taste as good at the small dormice you catch. Your mother always looks at you weird when you smell like hedgehog coming back, but after that time in winter when she almost lost you and you wore the same scent, she never mentioned it again.

Spring also brings new adventures, darting into small holes to hide from your hedgehog friend, stumbling under leaves and brambles as you chase each other. You end up exploring most of the forest, until you are so familiar with it that you are never lost again.

One day, you fall into a hole much larger than the others, a curious new smell in your nose. You stick your head back out and call for your friend, asking him to come explore with you.

He jumps into the hole, landing on your cushy tail and walking off as if he didn’t just prick you. You swat at him again, a downward swipe that won’t get you pricked, an action learnt over many days of pain.

He leads the way, telling you that this scent was what his mother called _rabbit_ , and you recognise that word because _your_ mother said rabbits were good eating. You told him so, and he rolled his eyes at you, muttering about _foxes_ and _weird things they eat._

By the time you reach the end of the burrow, you still haven’t seen the fabled rabbit, and a disappointed whine leaves your throat. There is a shuffling in the nest before you, and a small body with long ears tucked against its body jumps out, barrelling towards you in a frenzy.

You yelp and scrabble away, but it has already hit you in the chest, bowling you over. Its paws thump against your chest triumphantly, declaring that _foxes aren’t so bad, they’re kinda stupid actually._

You feel a surge of indignation, rolling over and trapping the shocked rabbit between your paws. You stick your nose close to its face, snuffling at its wide eyes and twitching nose.

_Mama said rabbits are good eating, so maybe I should eat_ you _for saying that I’m stupid._

There’s a sharp prick in your side, and you yelp and roll away, whining at your hedgehog friend that he never lets you be cool. The hedgehog rolls his eyes and nudges the rabbit to get him up, apologising for his _big, stupid fox friend, but he’s harmless, really._

The rabbit is still looking at you sceptically, but he suggests going out into the sun to play, because _Mama will kill me already, 'cause your stupid fox smell is all over in here._

So now you have two friends, a prickly hedgehog and a light brown rabbit, both of whom love disturbing you no matter the situation.

If it’s kinda odd that you have friends who should be prey, your mother never mentions it to you. She just gives you a resigned look and tells you not to bring them home unless they want to be dinner.

x.x.x.x.x

You are wandering alone in the forest sometime in summer, looking for either the hedgehog or the rabbit when you meet a new friend.

This animal is larger than you, but you are not yet fully grown. It seems to be moving slowly, sluggishly even, nose to the ground in the same manner that you do when you are hunting. It doesn’t look like a predator, so you bound towards it, yipping in greeting.    

It looks at you slowly, eyes nearly closed, snuffling in reply. You pelt it with questions, like _what are you_ and _where do you stay_ and _what do you eat_? Too many words, too many noises, excited squealing for the most part.

It groans heavily and drags itself away, muttering something about _I knew I shouldn’t have come out_ and _talk to me after sundown when I’m awake._

You freeze then, because you remember what happened the last time you were out after dark. It’s not _impossible_ , because you do hunt at night, but you just prefer not to. You tell it so, and it blinks sleepily at you. It turns away and crawls into a hole, with a last _the best hunts are at night_.

You stand there, stunned at the dismissal, and shake yourself awake to go look for your other friends.

They sniff at you and declare that _you are an_ idiot, because apparently you had just met a badger, and those are meat-eaters as well. _You are lucky you weren’t eaten_ , they say.

You blink in surprise, promise to be careful, and the rest of your afternoon is spent playing.

That night, you backtrack and find the badger, who sitting between the roots of a tree, waiting. It looks at you and introduces himself, then leads you off in the darkness to hunt for small nocturnal rodents. You follow warily, then happily, when it becomes obvious that you will have a full belly that night.

Close to morning light, you realise you are in a familiar area, and tell the badger that you won’t hunt here because this is where your friends live. He raises an eyebrow and nods. As he turns away, he asks to be introduced to your friends. _I promise not to eat them_.

You agree, and are about to suggest a time when a loud squeak and a body of spines slams into your side.

You mewl pitifully from the ground, batting at the dumb hedgehog who _keeps trying to poke you to death_. But he is no longer there, and is standing in front of you in a threatening posture, squeaking angrily at the tired badger.

The badger chortles and lowers himself to the ground slowly, rumbling in amusement. _You keep interesting company._

You roll back up and squish the small hedgehog to the ground, apologising and introducing the bumbling ball of spikes. Said ball of spikes yells in protest, because _badgers are enemies of hedgehogs you dumbass_ , but the badger only rumbles again.

_Interesting company,_ he repeats, placing his head on his paws, eyes hooded with sleep. _Where is your other friend?_

And the rabbit bounds out of the bushes, jumping at you as he was wont to do, knocking your paw off the hedgehog. _Here_ , he announces proudly, and the badger’s eyes open wide in amazement.

Nobody you meet, it seems, can believe how you are friends with your prey.

x.x.x.x.x

The four of you are an interesting sight in the forest, two pairs of mortal enemies walking side by side companionably. All of the other animals gawk and laugh at you, and place bets on who will be the first to be eaten.

You hear of these things, and swear that it will never happen, not on your watch. Because you have learned to trust in the sharp jabs of your hedgehog, the harsh kicks of your rabbit, and the heavy body slams of your badger. These three have been with you through thick and thin, and are more likely to save you than any of your own species.

Which is ironic, considering that foxes are the most cunning creatures in the forest, known to sell out anyone to save their own hides. You are probably the tamest, most loyal fox the forest has ever known, and it baffles everyone you meet long enough for your friends to run away.

x.x.x.x.x

The seasons pass in a blur, and then it’s winter again, that time of year when all of you bundle up nice and warm in your own burrows to hibernate. (You had been unceremoniously kicked out of your mother’s den several months back, because you were _big enough to find your own way._ )

Spring dawns bright and crisp, and as you shake off your winter coat, you notice with glee that you have grown, that you are an adult now.

It has been a long time in coming, because it was your rabbit friend who hopped off to find a mate first, followed by your hedgehog friend. It is your turn soon, to fill your den with a mate and kits. You wonder if your badger friend has reached that stage of life yet.

You set off to find your friends, trying to remember which of their burrows was where.

You find the badger first, stretching languidly outside his sett, a new home he had dug out for himself only autumn past. He grumbles tiredly at you, then shows you into his home, taking a right turn which leads to the burrow he had excavated for your rabbit friend.

He leaves you there, in an antechamber off the side, for your friend has a mate and kits, all of whom are wary of foxes. It is surprising in itself that they accepted staying in an inhabited badger sett, convinced over a long period that _this_ badger wished them no harm.

Soft thumping made you turn your head, just in time to catch a rabbit to the face. You are knocked over, as usual, and stick your paws into his soft belly to prod him off of you. He kicks gently at them, clinging on to your muzzle and nuzzling your forehead.

You wrestle with him a while before saying your goodbyes, setting off in search of your last friend.

You are horrified to see two foxes – kits, really – at the mouth of your friend’s burrow, and quickly scare them off with your new size and strength. Turning back to the burrow, you are saddened to see that the entryway has been dug at and widened, claw marks within showing how far they had managed to reach.

You call into the hole, hoping that your friend is still alive, that part of his family is still intact. A small nose pokes out some time later, beady eyes narrowed in the light.

He barrels into you, and the familiar jab of spikes gives you a huge sense of relief. You roll over, squeezing him – spikes and all – to your chest, nuzzling the tiny face that is somehow not angry looking.

Soon, you put him down to check on his family, and one by one, they emerge into the light, newly homeless because their den has been discovered. You have a great idea then, and offer it as a solution. (Really, you should have thought of it earlier. It was an obvious solution, after all.)

Your friend accepts, though his mate is sceptical. You promise that it will be safer, and that it doesn’t matter because you don’t eat hedgehogs anyway.

And that’s how the tiny burrow off the main entrance to your den becomes occupied with your best friend and his family. You protect him and his as the badger does for the rabbit. It is another great mystery of the forest, that the two carnivores harbour the prey of the other, and somehow, all four of you are still friends.

It is so amazing that even the great wolves that pass by comment on it, and offer all of you honorary places in the pack for your loyalty to each other.

You don’t need to accept it, because the four of you are your own pack, are your own community that trusts not to eat each other, and to protect each other from other predators. You are an odd group, two big and two small, herbivore, carnivore and omnivore, all living in harmony and co-dependence.

The sun sets on a blue summer sky, and the four of you emerge to hunt and play.

**Author's Note:**

> You should have managed to guess which animal is which, but in case you didn't:
> 
> Oikawa - Fox  
> Iwaizumi - Hedgehog  
> Hanamaki - Rabbit  
> Matsukawa - Badger


End file.
